Slow hands
by wanderingsmith
Summary: B/B, Who's playing that music? And who's going to tango...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Slow hands  
Author: wanderingsmith  
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this.  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Who's playing that music? And who's going to tango...  
Warning: BB   
An: not been betaed, just a scene I had stuck in my head and decided to try to put down

Chapter one

As Booth walked into the Jeffersonian, he could hear music, loud volume, muffled by walls, the low sexy beat evocative of a hot crowded dance floor.

He grinned and wondered who he'd get to tease for their obvious mood as he followed the sound deeper into the building. He'd half expected to end up in Angela's domain and, as the song changed, was slightly shocked to realize the music was coming from Temperance's office instead.

" _Darlin' don't say a word, cause I already heard  
What your body's sayin' to mine" _

Temperance closed her eyes and listened to the words as the beat behind the music snaked through her, hips swaying with every pulse,

" _I want a man with a slow hand"_

her hands pretend-smoothed down her ribs to her thighs as her whole body swayed to the hastening rhythm.

After several weeks of too much FBI stress and too little time for her own work, she'd decided to try an old college trick to relax; sexy music and mental permission to think whatever thoughts chose to come. And if this time she'd known very well where her thoughts would go.. well, who was to know.

She knew there was an uncharacteristically large smile on her face as she imagined dancing like this with Booth, his oh so familiar bedroom eyes fixed on her and promising to take her over the moon.

" _On shadowed ground, with no one around  
And a blanket of stars in our eyes  
We are drifting free, like two lost leaves  
On the crazy wind of the night"_

Lost in the music, amused at her own thoughts, she opened her eyes and saw Booth standing in the doorway, eyes wide, breathing through lightly parted lips with a faint grin.

" _Darlin', don't say a word, 'cause I already heard  
What your body's sayin' to mine"_

He saw her eyes widen slightly as her body missed a few beats; but then her smile turned into an outright come-hither grin and she went back to dancing. His breath hitched for a moment at the blatant way her half closed eyes undressed him as her lips followed the lyrics, though the stereo was too loud for him to hear her voice.

" _'Cause I got a man with a slow hand  
I got a lover with an easy touch  
I found somebody who will spend some time  
Not come and go in a heated rush  
I found somebody who will understand  
When it comes to love, I want a slow hand"_

There was a very faint voice at the back of his mind, reminding him that she could kick his butt if he tried something she didn't want. But the temptation of her sweetly moving body and the sexy beat pounding the room were far louder as he stepped up to her.

Temperance let her eyes close as she felt his arms come around her, his chest come to rest surrounding her shoulder blades. She raised her hands behind her head to his neck as he joined her swaying to the music, their hips pressed and his lips tickling her ear.

" _If I want it all night  
Please say it's alright  
It's not a fast move  
But a slow groove  
On my mind"_

The husky tone in his soft whisper, the warm breath tracing her cheek, all left her shivering and unconsciously resting more of her weight on him. She didn't want to think, didn't want to remember her inability to connect with anyone, let alone men. If this sweet, mutual seduction was wrong, was a mistake, she would deal with it in the morning light.

For now, even as the song ended, his head turned that little bit, his lips laying a deliberate kiss to her ear as another song started, and all she felt was the warmth of his heavy body, the safety of his wide shoulders supporting her. And the growing arousal, hers and his; his hands now flat against her belly holding her tight against him.

_  
The song I went with is 'Slow Hands' by the Pointer Sisters. I know I heard a more modern version at some point on the radio, though the only one I can find now has that 70s sounds to it.. oh well; good lyrics, good beat_

an2: I know its a 'little' OoC for brennan. It's the image that stuck with me, not a long story, not on this thread.

An: I may continue. Although if someone with skills at witting sex scenes were to volunteer to advise/beta.. well, maybe the chances would be higher. Sorry folks, I love reading them, but I've never managed to write one.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Slow hands  
Author: wanderingsmith  
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this.   
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Who's playing that music? And who's going to tango...  
Warning: BB

Chapter Two

_The morning before_

Bones sighed as she sat down at her desk. 'A full night's sleep should have more effect than this!' She'd slept 8 hours straight, yet she'd still had to drag herself out of bed this morning. And she could still feel remnants of cotton clouding her thoughts! Damned FBI.

She knew she was being unfair, the FBI didn't create cases, they just responded to them. On the other hand, they, and a certain agent in particular, made for very handy targets to blame for lack of sleep, short temper and the work pilling up to be done.

"Hey Sweety, you look like you need this."

Temperance raised her head from it's position flopped on her chair's headrest. She gave Angela a grateful smile for the coffee she was holding out. "Thanks Ange"

"Seriously hon, you look beat. Why don't you go home and get some more rest? I'm positive Dr. Goodman would be right behind me."

"Umm, and these bones are just going to identify themselves? I'm fine Angela, I had a full night's sleep."

"One night out of 21 does not 'fine' make." She added as she turned to walk back out, "and those bones won't get identified at all if you give yourself a heart attack."

Temperance shook her head with a smile, she counted herself lucky to have Angela's friendship, no matter how demanding it sometimes felt to try to keep up her side.

Not for the first time, she reminded herself why she stayed out of serious relationship with men. That would be a whole other range of demanding.

As it too often did, thoughts of relationships brought Booth to mind, which brought the last few weeks of FBI hell to mind. 6 cases in 21 days, Angela had exaggerated somewhat in her estimate, but she certainly hadn't stayed in her house more than four hours at a stretch during that period. Her two trips out of town with Booth to dig up crime scenes had been madness as they simultaneously tried to continue running other cases here in DC. Thank God for the rest of her team. Without their willingness to cooperate with the FBI (than you Hodgins) and to do some of the legwork she usually did with Booth... well, say what they will, without 'Squints' eyes in the field, cases would take far longer to get all their evidence found.

She started her morning routine of booting the computer, checking mail and the inbox on her desk. 'Did we sleep in the SUV one night?' She frowned as she tried to remember the details around the sudden mental image. She could remember sitting in the back with a case file spread on the floor in front of them, the car parked at a crime scene in the forest in Nebraska in the middle of the night. After spending four hours digging up the bones that were found and sending them back to DC, they were trying to decide what their next step needed to be. Knowing all the while that they also had an open case back home that was going to get cold if they didn't get back.

And then she could remember waking up, slightly stiff but warm and cozy. As her senses started to wake up, she realized the warm pillow was Booth, what she'd thought was her cat purring was actually his light snore, and the reason she was stiff was that his arm was holding her curled against his side as he leaned back against the wall of the SUV with his head dropping on hers.

Neither of them had said a word when he woke as she started to move away. He was as worn down as she was, chasing suspects and information, on his own or with her and then standing over her shoulder and theorizing as she and her team analyzed whatever remains were at the centre of the case. Between her and Angela, they'd managed to insist that Zack and Hodgins go home at reasonable times after the first 3 days of working well into the night, and Angela was always wise enough to know when to quit and give her mind a chance to recharge. She'd tried to send Booth home too, or at least to her couch for some rest, but he'd said flatly that he couldn't sleep any more than she could with the case the way it was.

She could only hope that it was over now. They'd closed their last case yesterday afternoon, it was all in the hands of the lawyers now. And she'd made it through the night without being woken by a tired Booth on her cell. And no emails. She closed her eyes and sighed softly before taking a deep breath, stretching her neck and shoulders and getting up. She had dark age bones to verify.

---------------------------------------------------

By five o'clock she'd only managed half the work she'd expected to get through and she could feel tiredness trying to scratch her eyes out. By six the building was pitch quiet, everyone gone home, even Angela, though not before trying to chivvy Temperance into leaving. She was starting to feel ligh-headed and decided she would just finish replying to her emails and call it a day.

By seven, she'd passed over 'the wall' and gotten her second breath. And if she wasn't quite her usual collected self.. there was no one there to notice and convince her that she was as good as high on exhaustion fumes.

The silence was starting to get on her too sensitive nerves and Temperance checked her drawers to see what music she had. She frowned at the third one she found, 'Home groove' 'How did that get here?'. Then she remembered bringing her home-made mix for Angela to copy for a date. Her frown cleared and she decided that it was sign from that 'someone up above' Booth was always on about. She hadn't relaxed with some music since.. well, that rap club outing hadn't made it to relaxing, not really.

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As he closed the car door, Agent Booth frowned suddenly and checked his watch, 'Damn, she's probably already gone home, idiot.' "Then again, if anyone is likely to work late, it's Bones. Might as well go in and check, now that I'm here." He sighed deeply as he mumbled to himself. He didn't even know what day it was 7:30 of. He was getting as bad as the anthropologist.

Before pushing the doors open, he rubbed his hands over his face a couple times to wake up and straightened his shoulders, 'OK, find Bones, tell her the guy pleaded guilty, try to talk her into going to sleep and GET HOME! Right.' Plan in place, he made his way into the darkened building.

TBC in chapter 3


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Slow hands  
Author: wanderingsmith  
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this.   
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Who's playing that music? And who's going to tango...  
Warning: BB

Author's ramble: anyone remember the dance scene in The bridges of madison county? I like eastwood, don't get me wrong, but he's not one that I associate with romantic roles. at least not past the kind of implied associations that most movies include for mass appeal. yet, he and meryl managed to.. bring to mind(?), make you feel (?) more sensuality than the best of Dirty dancing (IM humble O). vbg I bet booth could do at least as well. sigh since we got the bar dance, I don't suppose there's even the remotest chance.. ah well, on to my daydreams!

Chapter three

Arousal warred with exhaustion, but the slower music reluctantly conspired to convince Booth this was the wrong night to make a move on his lady scientist. He signed softly, cuddling his Bones even closer as they continued to shuffle softly around her office.

_Gazing at people,  
Some hand in hand,  
Just what I'm going thru  
They can understand. _

The Moody Blues, a darkened room and a sexy woman leaning back against him in age-old surrender; Booth's eyes slid shut, 'this is what life's about'. His head drooped tiredly forward and came to rest against hers; the faint vanilla from her shampoo tempting him to nuzzle in even closer.

Temperance laughed softly at the image of Booth as a cuddly puppy. Of it's own volition, her hand moved from his neck to trace his cheek, feeling the rarely seen scruff; warm sandpaper. The faint scratchy sensation faded to nothing as he turned his head and pressed his lips to her fingers; so soft, Temperance turned her head slowly as his lips formed the lyrics onto her fingertips.  
_  
'cause I love you,  
Yes, I love you,  
Oh, how, I love you.  
Oh, how, I love you. _

His eyes never opened as her fingertips guided his unresisting lips to hers. She felt the last vibration of his voice, then he kissed her back. Time held no meaning as she turned in his arms and their hands glided over each other; tried to get ever closer, as their lips met, clung, and released to meet again. Temperance wondered later that an innocent kiss could be so intimate, that she and Booth could have managed to keep it innocent; but at that moment, she just felt. She didn't remember their noses bumping, or that first touch of his body.. only the sense of intimacy, safety, tender care; the sudden certainty that she'd never felt whole before, never been safe.

The last song had long since ended when Booth's tiredness overcame the sweet drug of affection he'd surrendered to. Reluctantly easing out of the kiss, he tilted his head back, the hand buried in Bones' hair bringing her head to rest on his heart as he took a deep slow breath, trying not to sway, faintly afraid his legs would collapse under them both. He laughed softly, "You make me dizzy, woman." His soft voice in the silent room woke Temperance from the half drowse his heartbeat had put her in.

She lifted her head to respond; she was sure his words deserved sarcasm, or at least teasing. But the effort to think was more than she could accomplish. Instead, she shook her head at him, unconsciously tilting it slightly. As she stood looking at his widening smile, she saw her couch beyond him and started moving to it.

Her arm still holding him brought Booth around and his feet automatically joined hers toward the needed rest. There was no thought involved when she grabbed the blanket off the arm and Booth pulled her down over him, the blanket draped down her back, her head returning to it's spot over his breastbone as he wrapped his arms around her.

Through the descending fog of much needed sleep, Temperance felt him kiss her temple and mutter what sounded like 'Sweet dreams'. She was smiling as they both dropped into the arms of Morpheus.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Booth woke lightly, his body following a lifetime's habit and taking a deeper breath before turning on his side to relieve the muscle stiffness that he was only barely conscious of. Or he tried to. The weight on his chest restrained his breath and made him wake completely, a small frown drawing his brows together as he opened his scratchy-feeling eyes. The auburn hair sprawled on his chest slowly dragged his memory up. _Bones_. _Dancing_. He grinned. _Kissing_.

For a moment, he basked in that memory. But the muscle stiffness that had woken him in the first place was still there; and the knowledge that he'd eventually need to face Temperance sobered his slightly manic state of mind. The frown returned as he started to realize how out of it they'd both been. He didn't have any regrets for what he'd done, but everything he knew about Bones made any chances of her feeling the same slim at very best.

Nonetheless, they needed to get up, or he at least, would be paralysed come morning.

He took one last breath, freezing this memory alongside the precious few moments he had with Parker. He wrapped his right arm around Bones, his left not responding, "Come on Sleepy-Bones, on your feet Babe.", he spoke softly as he sat them up with protesting back muscles. The exhausted woman in his arms gripped his already mussed shirt closer for a moment before she tensed and raised her head.

He smiled at her heavy lidded eyes as he held in a yawn and brought them both to their feet. "We need to get to a bed Bones, this one'll kill me by morning." He kept his voice soft and waited for her to find her death glare and lock him out of her personal life.

Temperance tried to remember if she'd ever been so tired in her life. His words barely registered past the instinct to rest her head back on it's pillow. Pillow. Bed. Booth. "Yours is closer."

Booth heard her slurred words and couldn't hold back a brief grin when she followed them with burrowing back into him. He had to remember this; a tired Bones was a cuddly, cooperative Bones... He rolled his eyes as he remembered what it took to get her this tired. Oh well, spunky Bones made life interesting; most of the time.

Walking slowly to respect his tired legs, not to mention the zombie in his arms, he got them both out of the pitch-black museum and safely to his SUV.

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Bones was fast asleep by the time he made it home and Booth went and opened his front door before returning to the passenger side. The time concentrating while he drove, combined with the night chill as he got out of the car had him almost feeling human for the time being. He reckoned as long as she didn't wake up and think she was being abducted, he should be able to carry his guest into the house; more safely than trying to get her walking.

As he walked through the door with Bones cuddled into his suit jacket again, he laughed at life's ironies and hoped he got a chance to tease her about carrying her over the threshold.

The car and house locked up, Booth stood watching Bones sleeping on his bed. It was intoxicating to pretend they were a couple, home late from an outing, Parker sleeping down the hall, taking his wife's boots and pants off so she could sleep comfortably. But reality intruded when he hesitated to take her shirt off too. He might get away with having seen Bones' panties with no more than accepting a beating, but anything else and he'd likely end up in hospital.

As he lay down on his side beside her, he drowsily thought it would have been worth it.

-----------------------------------------------------

For the second time, Temperance woke to purring in her ear. She'd almost slipped back to sleep when she realized the backdrop to the purring sounded suspiciously like a heartbeat. The notion was so odd that she was the rest of the way awake in an instant, her senses all taking stock before she moved. Warm, far more than usual. Harder bed.. not bed, _skin_. Her eyes flew open and she tried to sit up, even as memory of the night before returned. The scent of warm Booth and faint vanilla.

The arms locked around her kept her from rising, but her movement woke the man she was using as a pillow. She idly noticed the light shinning through the heavy curtains, 'must be late'. The light made it easy to see the wariness appear on Booth's features as his synapses kicked in. She settled her chin in her palm, one arm resting on his. bare. chest, "What are you worried about?"

The words were idle curiosity; she was busy immersing herself in her senses. For once grateful for Saturdays, she casually debated laying her free hand on his pectorals, or seeing how far he'd jump if she dropped her lips to the dark nub of a nipple.

His brows rose at the calm question in her voice, "What, you don't think I'm ever uncertain?" There was a slightly dreamy depth to her eyes that could be interpreted as a good sign; but then again, she might just still be overtired..

Temperance frowned at the tension she could feel in his body. "Ever, yes. I'm just not sure why you are now."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, the confidence in her voice starting to reassure him that she was awake and aware, "At best I figured you'd punch me and make me swear never to bring this up again; at worst, I expected to be sworn at and told to never show my face again. I never thought to hope you'd be content to be here."

Booth watched Temperance's eyes turn pensive. She wasn't sure herself why she was so content. She should be ready to run from this unaccustomed intimacy, should be slamming the doors on her emotions and chasing the far too handsome FBI agent out with enough technical jargon to keep him out. Yet the flight response was no more than an academic subject in her psyche. She could remember feeling carefree and happy the night before, soaked in affection and safety. Sailing on a sea of no cares; hadn't she heard that in a song once? She looked at the man she'd slept with; hair mussed, bare shoulders and chest, stubbled cheeks. She grinned. Bedroom eyes. _She remembered kissing Booth_. Angela would never believe that that would lead to feeling merely 'content' this morning.

But she was. She was rested from long, comfortable sleep, was warm and relaxed. She had the full attention of a devastatingly good-looking man without a shirt on. And at some point between 'quitting time' Friday and this morning, her subconscious had decided that it would be worth the teasing (from Angela) and aggravation (inevitable with Booth), to spend more time, private time, with this man. To make the effort to understand him, and let him understand her. To try this 'living' they kept saying could be wonderful.

Her hand reached up and curved around his cheek. "I like the beard." Clean and neat Booth was a treat for the eyes and hands, but she was finding rumpled, scrubby Booth an irresistible temptation for the senses.

Accepting for now that it was a good day, Booth's eyes slid closed again as he turned into the light caress. He signed happily, and the extra dose of oxygen brought not only energy, but mischief. Before she could react to his sudden wicked grin, he rolled until she was under him. "So the next time I need you to take a job for me, I could just show up scruffy, instead of making Goodman order you?"

Temperance watched his cocky grin and tried to decide how to keep him from getting any further out of line. Cocky Booth could be very adorable, as Angela would say, but he did need reigning in. And she was fairly sure that was part of the position she was going for in his life. She pretended to think, "Umm, let me think.. well, I'd enjoy the eye chocolate," she leered at him, "but I wouldn't count on your case getting any attention!"

Booth started laughing and ended up rolling them on their side to avoid crushing her. "Eye candy, Bones." Still chuckling, he framed her face in his hands and bent until she could breathe his words, "And being chosen over your bony friends," he touched his lips to hers once, "is an honour I will never let you forget you offered." This time there was no tiredness to keep the passion from taking over, and his lips returned to hers, open and hungry.

_AN: the song at the beginning is 'Nights in white satin', by the Moody blues. 'Sea of no cares' is a song from Great big sea. Beta readers are always welcome, as are post-posting (?umm) 'readers'. I'm already working on the next couple chapters, the one I want to make NC-17, if my typing fingers would cooperate(!)_

TBC in chapter 4


	4. Chapter 4and5

Title: **Slow hands**  
Author: wanderingsmith   
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this.  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Who's playing that music? And who's going to tango...  
Warning: BB

my chapter 4 is NC-17. you can skip it and just read this (chapter 5) without losing anything of the story!

to read Chapter 4, you can go to wanderingsmith dot livejournal dot com

Chapter Five

"So, how serious were you about liking the scruff?"

Temperance looked in the mirror at the yawning, shirtless, overgrown boy asking the lazy question. "Why?"

Seeley rolled his eyes at the typically serious response to a completely casual question. He walked up behind Bones, standing at the mirror combing out her hair, wearing his shirt, mostly undone, with her slacks. He slipped his hands around her waist and rested his whiskered chin on her shoulder. "Because it's Sunday. I can look any way I please. And it happens to please me to stack the odds of seducing you," he dropped a kiss on the exposed skin of her shoulder, "in my favour."

The confident smirk he threw at her made Temperance wish he wasn't quite so skilled at the seducing. She could resist the come-hither eyes, she'd been practising that religion since she'd met him. But the words, and their simple implication; that she was important to him, that he wanted her.. were less resistible. She needed to counter-attack.

She knew there was a wicked grin on her face as she turned slowly, slid her hands along his jaw, watching his nose flare and his eyes narrow, and leaned to whisper into his ear, "Keep the scruff, and you might just get seduced."

Before he could react, she'd swayed out of the bathroom, leaving Booth hazy with lust.

He caught sight of his dazed expression in the mirror. He shook his head, his lips twitching as he got undressed. The last day and a half seemed both a fantastic dream, and the most normal of life. He'd dreamt this kind of companionship with Bones almost since he'd met her. But on the other hand, Bones was still Bones. She didn't expect him to be any different than he'd been since he'd met her, and he knew she was the same woman who'd stood by him through the tense, the unfair and the really ugly; all the while driving him crazy in every way. He'd go from wanting to strangle her, to wanting to wrap his arms around her shoulders and never let go.

Coming out of the shower, he automatically reached for his razor, and felt the scratches he knew were scoring his shoulder. He grinned, 'Wonder if she'd react to Wildcat better than Bones.' He absently scratched his itchy jaw as he got his sweats back on and walked out without going through his usual FBI-proper-appearance routine. It occured to him to wonder that he was so willing to change his habits for his lady doctor.

It'd certainly been a boost to his ego to hear her actually compliment him; repeatedly. But he knew damned well that comments aside, it would never even have occurred to her to ask him to change. At least not physically; she'd never been shy about trying to get him to change his attitudes.

As he got to the living room, she met him holding two cups of coffee. And he had the undeniable pleasure of seeing her eyes light up, at him instead of a skeleton! Definitely worth itchy cheeks. After passing him his cup, her free hand came to rest on his bare chest, over his heart, and she balanced on it to reach up and kiss his scruffy cheek. Without a word she walked to his couch and dropped against it's arm, eyes coming to rest on him again.

Temperance watched him take a few sips while staring back at her with what she judged to be amusement and affection. She decided that he was at least as interesting to examine as Iron-age warriors. She smiled, too bad she couldn't get paid for it.

It'd been a long time since she'd taken two days off in a row. And those were usually spent writing; whether articles, reports or her book. When she'd told Booth that she took vacations, she'd known she was pushing the definition. Going on a dig was arguably a change of pace, but she was sure he wouldn't call it a vacation.

As he turned away and ambled his way to the kitchen, it occurred to her that if they really were together now, he'd expect her to join him on those 'laying on the beach' trips. 'Were they together?'

- He'd flirted with her on and off from the day they met.  
- For someone who wouldn't give her a gun and had tried to keep her in the lab, he was oddly trusting of her abilities to take care of herself in a fight.  
- He could be thoughtful and caring, took her lack of those qualities in stride far better than she had a right to expect.  
- And she'd learned to trust him. To expect him to be there for her, even to understand her when she spoke.

And now they were lovers. Spending Saturday together and then going to sleep together again made it more than a one-night stand; and in any case, he wouldn't do that to her.

That thought brought her up short. There was no one reason to think he wouldn't, but when she added together all the time she'd spent with him, she knew this would not be any more casual for him than it was for her. She ignored the noises from the kitchen as she tried to decide what she wanted. Was she ready to accept the responsibility of a relationship with Seeley Booth?

She didn't realize she was frowning into her cup until she heard his voice right in front of her. "You want to go in to work?" She jerked her eyes up to his in surprise. Thinking about her answer, she watched the mostly neutral expression and slightly self-deprecating smile on his face. She hadn't really been thinking about going to work. On the other hand, she was glad to see that he seemed OK with the idea; but did that mean he didn't care whether they spent the day together? Had he had enough of her company?

"Are we a couple?"

Her abruptly asked question floored Seeley for a second, but then he put the coffee pot he'd brought down on the side table and got down to his haunches so they were eye level. His hands rested on her knees as he looked at her seriously; she looked her usual calm, thinking self, but there was an undercurrent of nervousness in her eyes, in the tension he felt in her body.

"I'd be happy to spend every second of my life with you Temperance." He watched her blink in surprise and he continued, smiling wryly, "but my work is important to me, and it's going to take me away at annoying times," he put a finger on her lips when she went to protest, "I know you understand that. But the point is, I know your work is just as important to you. How can I expect you to put up with me if I don't return the favour?"

Temperance looked at him for a moment. As much as he could drive her crazy when he pulled the boyish charm, these moments, serious, focused on her, caring and looking every inch a man; these were the times she'd always had to fight not to melt. She felt a small smile escape when she realized she could let herself melt this time. She leaned forward, slipped her hands into his hair, and very deliberately decided to drive him crazy. He'd said 'is going to take me away', he was thinking about a future too.

Seeley had a last thought that being the reason Bones took time off could get addictive in a hurry.

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"I'm starving. You have to let me eat if you want me to last!"

Temperance lifted her head from it's favourite pillow at the husky complaint reverberating on her ear. "Why is it my fault you're starving?"

Booth raised an eyebrow and started grinning, anticipating teasing her, "Who was it pounced on me in the living room? When I was already weak from hunger and had only started to search for food?"

She snorted, "Weak? You carried me in here; you can't have been that weak."

"Yeah, then you went and depleted the last of my reserves!"

Temperance rolled her eyes at him and got up off of his supposedly exhausted body. She sat cross-legged on the bed, watching him move around the room getting dressed. Though she was still feeling the glow from the pleasure that body gave her, she was nonetheless slightly tempted to see just how exhausted he really was; that beautiful body was still moving energetically... She frowned and got up suddenly as he turned his back and she saw the marks there for the first time.

"Booth! I'm so sorry. Why didn't you say something?" She hurried up to him, then hesitated to touch the harsh red streaks, some with the skin broken.

"Hey, it's OK, it's OK.", Seeley turned and brought her eyes to look into his, smiling reassuringly at her embarrassed horror, "I didn't notice when it happened, they don't feel half as bad as they probably look," he leaned in to give her a brief but thorough kiss. He then raised his lips just enough to whisper "and the very idea that I drive you that wild," he kissed her again, vaguely wondering if he really needed food after all, "puts a smile on my face every time I move my shoulders."

"I.." Temperance frowned uncertainly, then rested a hand on his jaw, feeling hers tensing and jerking, "I don't like the idea of hurting you."

Seeley felt his heart turn to mush at her soft tone, glad he'd already accepted that he was lost in her; otherwise he'd probably be looking pole axed right now. He kissed her forehead and returned just as softly, "Too bad. I do like driving you wild, Wildcat." He grinned at her, "For which I need food!" With a last, fast, smooch he turned and swaggered out of the bedroom, leaving Temperance frowning and reminding herself to cut her nails short.

----------------------------------------------------

When Bones walked up to the counter next to him, Seeley leaned over to kiss her ear, and when she turned with a raised brow, he asked, "Can I tempt you into bacon and eggs, or do you want cereal?"

Before she could request her usual bowl, Temperance's stomach growled audibly and Booth started laughing, saying she definitely needed real food. He looked so happy, standing at the stove humming Black Velvet. She gave up and went to find their coffee cups. Maybe she could get used to Sunday mornings like this.

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"Mornin' Sweety, how was.. well well well," Angela started smirking when she saw the red marks on her friend's cheeks, "I know what you were doing this weekend, but with whom?"

Temperance rolled her eyes, knowing she was blushing on top of the whisker-burns, "None of your business Angela." She did not want to get into this. She'd woken up early to Booth's alarm clock, once again sleeping more on him than not. They'd cuddled and talked idly about work through two snoozes before dragging themselves to a shower. Then he'd driven to her apartment so she could change before dropping her off at the Jeffersonian.

She'd lived with men before, and had a few serious relationships besides. But she couldn't remember ever feeling like she had walking away from Booth's SUV this morning. For the space of a few steps, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world. A husband dropping his wife off to work when her car is broken. Partners talking about their work in the pre-dawn light.

After their talk on Sunday, awkwardness seemed banished from their relationship for a spell. But she didn't want to talk about it, worried that she would end up dismissing the fragile peace.

Angela saw the worry in her friend's frown and gave her a quick hug, "Sorry Sweety, I saw your car here this morning and noticed you weren't in. I'm just glad you finally took some time off and had fun." She started to walk out of the room, then turned at the door, "Talk to me when you're ready, uh?"

Temperance smiled gratefully at her friend, "Thanks Ange."

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TBC in chapter 6


	5. Chapter 6

Title: **Slow hands **  
Author: wanderingsmith   
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this.  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Who's playing that music? And who's going to tango...  
Warning: BB**  
**

**Chapter Six**

Temperance was running through her accumulated to do list and trying to prioritize when her cell started ringing.

"Brennan."

"Hey. Miss me?"

She could hear the grin in his voice. "Yes. I take it you got to work safely Sweety?" trying to insert enough sarcasm that he would ignore the truth of the initial statement.

Seeley's grin got wider at her snarked admission, but he decided not to make a point of it; getting along with Bones had it's pleasures, and annoying her wasn't half as fun when he wasn't there to see it. "You betcha. So, I forgot to ask, what do you want to do for supper?"

He'd actually argued with himself about whether to make it a question or a given that they would be together tonight. Then he'd remembered the uncertainty in her eyes on Sunday. She may have decided she wanted to be with him, but she obviously had doubts about which page they were on, and he didn't want to give those any fostering. So, full out offensive; if she needed private time, he knew she wouldn't hesitate to tell him off.

Her instinctive response was to say she was working. Until she realized with a shock that she did miss him already, and she remembered she'd promised herself she'd try that 'living' thing. Maybe going home at a reasonable time would get her points. She was speaking before the rest of the thoughts rushing in could fully form into hesitation, "I haven't shopped in ages, whereas I know your cupboards are full."

Booth rolled his eyes, smiling, both at the continuation of their argument during yesterday's food shopping; and at having her almost admit she wanted to come over for supper. "So, see you at 6? And Temperance, " his voice dropped deliberately, "bring your overnight bag." He hung up before she could find a riposte, smiling and feeling good about his life for the first time in a long time. He had to very deliberately wipe the smile off his face before stepping out of the elevator. The Bureau was not a job where walking into work cheerful was particularly encouraged.

Ending the call, Temperance stared blankly at the papers in front of her. She had never chosen a man over backlogged work. Leaving early, taking a day off when there was nothing with a deadline on, maybe. But with three weeks of work waiting...

Anthropologically speaking, choosing to pursue a personal relationship was part of her genetic makeup. And there was no denying that Booth had all the qualities to make a desirable mate. But the habits of a lifetime did not lend themselves to an easy transition. What had seemed easy and simple on the weekend now had ramifications and demands that she knew she'd most likely fail to meet.

The doubts she'd held at bay when Angela had questioned her were now front and centre. She actually enjoyed working cases with Booth; there was an undeniable pleasure in seeing first-hand the results of what she uncovered, in seeing the perpetrators of the horrors she had to analyse put behind bars. And no one but Booth would be willing to let her play her part in investigations. So if she failed, if they couldn't keep the balance between their skirmishes and the affection they were discovering for each other... She would lose a friendship she was starting to depend on, a relationship that made her feel complete and completely normal for the first time; and she would also lose this new path her career had taken.

But it was too late; she accepted that they had both taken the mental steps into this relationship. The bridge planks were falling behind them as they lifted their feet from each one and took another step toward tomorrow, for good or ill. She wasn't sure when Booth had stepped onto the bridge, but she remembered feeling the epipany's calming presence when she woke on Saturday; and sunday's talk had shown clearly that he was right beside her, holding to the same frayed ropes.

By the time they'd gotten up Saturday, it'd been closer to one than noon and they'd been starving. Teasing and playful, Booth in his sweats, she in his dress shirt, they'd fed each other anything they could find that didn't require work. Every few bites, their eyes would cross and he would grab the front of her shirt, pull her close for another deep, leisurely kiss. Then he'd beg for a taste of whatever was in her hand, starting them laughing again.

Angela would be thrilled at how Booth could incite her to play without even trying. There had always been times together when the playfulness, the smile, would just force itself out of her. His little boy grin was a frequent culprit, making her agree with him, making her smile when she should be sending him on his way. And now, he'd relaxed some restraint that had previously kept their play from turning physical. And she had spent their day and a half weekend thoroughly enjoying the unaccustomed contact, both tactile and emotional.

Food hunger finally sated, the weeks of sleep deprivation had once again caught up to them and they'd found themselves drowsing, Booth leaning back against the kitchen counter, she on his chest. When her feet started to feel the chill of the cold floor tiles, she'd pulled herself up against his grumbly protest and then led him back to bed, feeling so very at home.

"Dr. Brennan?"

She jerked up from laying out the forms to set up folders, realizing she'd been daydreaming. "Yes, Zack?" This would not do! She really needed to remember how to concentrate. Work still had to be work.

As she followed Zack to his troublesome skull reconstruction, she made herself stop thinking about relationships, living and working.

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Grumbling about the piles of paperwork that were without doubt continuing to replicate on his desk, Seeley shrugged out of his coat and suit, rolling up his sleeves and undoing buttons as he strolled into the kitchen.

Reaching in the cupboard and seeing her junk food next to his health food stopped him in his tracks for a second. He smiled slowly, taking a deep breath and enjoying the thought that he wouldn't be alone tonight. That he was looking forward to something other than work. That he had hope for his future again.

He laughed at himself as he reached for oil and onions; they'd never even been on a date, and he was picturing her as a fixture in his life. There was no denying that if he could have repeats of the weekend to look forward to, the rest of life's annoyances and pains would be bearable.

As he threw sausages on top of the onions in a baking dish and put it into the oven, he remembered being worried that having a relationship with Temperance would take work, remembered thinking that she would be as distant personally as she'd been professionally when they first teamed up. And that he would have to be patient to convince her to share her life rather than just a few controled bits of it.

Starting on batter, he snorted at himself; so much for his gut instincts! Whatever had made her decide to make a move on him Friday night, she'd kept to it on waking rested Saturday, and hadn't yet shown hesitation in letting him get close.

After breakfast on Sunday, she'd wandered over to his CD collection and they'd ended up spending the rest of the morning vigorously discussing musical merits. Gesturing rants and bursts of laughter. They agreed on a surprising combination of scores, and mocked each other up and down on the rest. Both trying to get a rise out of the other. He loved the playful side of her nature, and felt oh so proud that he'd made it into the small group of people she showed it to.

Then she'd insisted on making lunch, which to his hilarity had turned out to be grilled cheese sandwiches, although she'd wanted to add a salad; which had led to their trip to the market around the corner. Walking up and down the aisles ribbing each other over almost every item picked.

If he'd thought that getting the sexual tension out in the open would make them get along more smoothly, he'd now given that up as a pipedream. Oddly enough, he didn't really regret it. Arguing with Bones was almost as much fun as watching her be annoyed with him.

Almost as much of a pleasure as making love with her.

His hand slowed in the process of stirring, thoroughly distracted. Slow and soft on Saturday, mad and passionate on Sunday.

Somehow there was no mention of getting Bones' car, or even going to her place for fresh clothe. They were enjoying each other, enjoying being together without the grimness of death, or the danger of an investigation.

They'd started watching The Thomas Crown Affair after she'd admitted to once watching Remington Steele. By the time Mr. Crown seduced Ms. Russo into the horizontal mambo, his arm around her shoulders had become Temperance in his lap, kissing him fit to make him forget where they were. The kisses, slow and soft, had eventually tapered off, turning to cuddling as they finished the movie and moved to making supper.

Memories of laughing as Bones 'helped' him in the kitchen reminded him she was due any time. Almost as the thought came, he heard her car in the drive. Glad to have finished in time, he smirked as he walked to the door and opened it before she could knock. Wrapping one arm around her, he ignored her growl of protest and dragged her to him, bag and all, and closed the door, leaning his forearms against it with Bones stuck between, shooting visual daggers at his grin.

After a second, he decided she wasn't going to gut-punch him after all and leaned in to kiss her. Hard and deep; the frustration of a day at work after spending every second of the weekend together. A promise of the night to come. Yeah, he could handle this for the rest of his mortal life.

When her hands, sunk in his hair, applied pressure to push him back, they broke and stood panting for air.

"Miss me?"

Her breathless question had him choking on a laugh until he finally caught his breath enough to tell her supper would be ready in 20 minutes. He picked up her dropped bag and handed it to her with a last kiss.

Watching her walk to his bedroom to drop her bag and wash up, he decided he must be doing something good in his life to deserve this.

AN: The recipe Booth was making is 'Toad-in-the-hole with red onions and thyme batter', very yummy, and easy to make, and since he was in the army, I figure there's at least some chance of his having encountered it.


	6. Chapter 7and8

Title: **Slow hands **  
Author: wanderingsmith   
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this.  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Who's playing that music? And who's going to tango...  
Warning: BB

my chapter 7 is NC-17. you can skip it and just read this (chapter 8) without losing anything of the story!

to read Chapter 7, you can go to wanderingsmith dot livejournal dot com

**Chapter eight**

Just as he came out of the shower, Booth heard his cell ringing and hurried to the next room. "Booth." "Hawaii? Why are we being called in?"

Cullen replied, "They don't have any particular wish for you, Booth, they want your lady scientist. But since no one in the FBI willingly deals with her except you, you get to join the fun. In any case, are you complaining about being sent somewhere sunny and warm?"

Booth groaned, his palm against his closed eyes, "I'm not, but Doctor Brennan is going to have some choice words on the matter."

"That's what we pay you for, Booth."

After hanging up, Booth stood looking at his rumpled bed and the blouse left on a chairback.

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"Hey Booth, like the new you!"

Booth rolled his eyes at Angela's playful leer. Hoping she'd give up, he kept walking toward Goodman's office.

"I thought the FBI had rules about the whole clean-shaven, pressed-suit thing?"

No such luck. "They do. I'm not officially on duty yet." He crossed his fingers at what was pretty much a lie.

"Reeeeeally."

He knocked on Goodman's door as he heard her walk away.

"Come in." Dr. Goodman raised his brows in surprise at the man walking in. The only time he'd seen the agent unshaven, they'd all been stuck in quarantine. And even then, he had not been nearly as dishevelled looking as he currently was. "What in the world happened to you Mr. Booth? You look like you are coming in off a bender, save that you neither look nor smell hung over."

Booth shook his head without replying. "The FBI is requesting Dr.Brennan's help for a case, sir."

"Indeed. Well, thank you for letting me know, of course."

"That's not all, sir. The scene is on the island of Maui."

"Maui?" the older man laughed briefly, "well, I'll be here for several hours Mr. Booth. And I'll marshal my arguments for the good doctor." His grin at the unusually grim-faced agent saying without words that he anticipated his anthropologist giving the man trouble.

"Thank you, sir." Booth walked back out, hoping not to meet anyone else on his way to Bones. He could do without further teasing.

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Temperance was glad to be back on track. She had the built-up work prioritized, her files ready and organized. Her mind was clear and fenergized. All she had to do was pick up each box of bones, inspect the remains, and fill out the forms.

"Hey Bones! Guess what!"

She stood without picking up the box, "Booooooth! I have 3 weeks of work to catch up on! I don't have..." she turned as she continued ranting and stopped when she saw him leaning on the doorframe. Dark hair mussed, jaw still wearing the night's growth of whiskers, white shirt wrinkled, half undone and half untucked, black jeans, old, ripped, and ridding low, trench coat open. After a few blinks of appreciation, her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she stared at the man trying to give her innocent puppy-dog eyes, "We both know I wouldn't actually refuse to help you with a case. I know the FBI frowns on anything but perfect grooming.It's not Sunday. What aren't you telling me?"

"Never gave me a chance Bones." He strolled up to her, slipping his arms around her waist, "You, are needed on Maui."

Temperance continued to glare, though her hands snuck up to his shoulders without her conscious permission. As much as she hated falling for his ploy, she also knew by now that Dr. Goodman would already have approved this. And anyway, oh so familiar hands were running up and down her rib cage, and it was very hard to maintain a glare against that shadowed grin; and remember his voice 'I want you, need you.' She was going to regret this; she really was.

Booth watched as she closed her eyes on a huffy sigh and shook her head, "Fine, when are we leaving? I have to let Zack know what to do."

Not showing his surprise at just how easy that had been, he leaned in and gave her a brief but hard kiss, wishing they had time to go home for more than packing. He prayed that this Heaven they'd found could survive alongside their partnership. "I've got my bag with me and I brought your overnight. Or I can follow you home if you need to pack more, our plane leaves at fourteen hundred."

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Angela watched Booth walk from Goodman's office to Bren's, correctly assuming they had a new case. But why wasn't he his usual spit and polish self? Her curiosity getting the better of her manners, she casually walked up to the wall outside Bren's office and opened the folder in her hand to pretend she was busy, her eyes fixed sideways into her friend's sanctum.

'Well, well, well. Speechless Brennan. Well done Booth.' Then her eyes widened as he casually took her in his arms. 'Oh my.' Scruffy Booth and Brennan's whisker-burned cheeks from the day before suddenly added up to a very interesting picture. And what looked like a shockingly fast surrender from her friend made the agent's choice of dress for the morning an obviously winning tactic.

She walked away smiling hugely. Brennan had finally found someone to kiss her in her office. She was soooo going to tease those two!

AN: I will continue this story, but more slowly (yes, I know, I'm already slow), I want to get a few other ideas polished up and sent out 


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